┌───── ･☆☽･ ─────┐ 𝕒𝕡𝕣𝕚𝕝 𝟙 𝟡 𝟡 𝟞 ━━━━ ◦ ❖ ◦ ━━━━ "I'm going to have a conversation with this one, girl to girl."
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The fear travelled in the young mother's veins but never made it to her facial muscles. Her porcelain complexion remained neutral, her crystal eyes as steady as if she were reading the latest Witch Weekly scandal. Unfazed and unsurprised.
She let out an understated sigh, pursed her lips and turned to leave, showing her sister she wasn't afraid to turn her back.
"Not so fast, Cissy." Bellatrix slurred, anger flushing her pale complexion as she latched onto the younger blonde's wrist to prevent further movement.
Narcissa turned back to face her sister, "Yes, Bella?" she questioned, feigning innocence, eyes wide with fake surprise.
"Don't blame dumb Narcissa," Bellatrix rolled her dark eyes, chewing on her lips impatiently. "Stupidity never suited you."
Narcissa didn't respond, merely raised an eyebrow. A pregnant silence filled the air as hatred consumed the brunette's eyes.
"Well, in that case, would you care to enlighten me of your findings?" Her voice smooth, not a single fault in her demeanour despite her fears of revealed secrets.
Bellatrix's cackle echoed through the empty manor, stepping closer to her younger sister, she whispered.
"It seems baby Rosie is home after all. . . and for quite some time it would seem."
Narcissa swallowed the lump in her throat, refusing to let her fear show. "I see. What does this have to do with your findings?"
Bellatrix gazed into her sister's eyes, searching for an ounce of fear and yet she found none. "So I suppose you wouldn't mind us having a little chat, girl to girl."
When Narcissa didn't respond, she grinned manically, laughing as she stepped away from the stoic blonde.
"I suggest the girl be here for our meeting. . . I'd hate to rip her out of Anita's dead arms." She drawled, reminding the woman of her previous visit in January.
Narcissa tensed, eyes darting to the impending darkness, her heart beating erratically. With a deep breath, Narcissa stepped off the staircase towards the kitchen.
As the daylight dwindled fast, the tension in the young mother grew. Wandlessly, she filled the kettle to make a pot of tea she had no intention of drinking and yet it brought her comfort.
